


Death Hath Cruelty

by Rose (LustInIrony)



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blood As Lube, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugged Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Flawed justice, Hate Sex, Knifeplay, Multi, Mutilation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Old gods speak Latin, Plants for bondage, Poisoning, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scytra is a right cunt, Shoe Kink, Valentino is an abusive bastard, We love him because he's pretty, penetration in more ways than one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25901224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustInIrony/pseuds/Rose
Summary: Scytra, as a peace offering, invites Vox over for evening drinks.He has one too many, gets a little too comfortable, and then he's telling her everything.This is an RP piece I did with my girlfriend. It is very much vent writing. All of what we depict in this work is horrible, toxic behavior, that is neither healthy nor normal. This is a work of fiction. Do not forget that.
Relationships: OC Scytra Macabre/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), OC/Alastor (Hazbin hotel) (Mentioned), OC/OC (mentioned)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Death Hath Cruelty

"I never order for the doll to lose an arm, guess my men got a bit over excited there. The rest... oh well, let me assure you that I at least treated her well when I visited her in the room I held her in. I can now see why you like her so much, too. Very pretty to look at while you fuck her."

She's quick when she's angry. Talons and fangs, eyes blazing with cold poison. "You don't touch-" her hands drift down, tear open his suit, nails piercing skin- _"The mate of a god."_

On his drunk state, this surprises him. Then he whines... and grins. "Got you jealous? Cute."

"Jealousy is subjective. I am... territorial, dear Vox. _I like what is mine._ "

"Sure sure. Well then, sorry for breaking your toy, dollface. I'll make it up to you. I can send you a few whores... or fuck you so much you never want anyone besides me anymore~"

He doesn't know when to stop.

His head smacks back into the floor with such force his screen actually cracks. One hand, open palm. Right up on his chest, breast pushed into his face — barely contained by the midnight purple dress she wears. Her other hand, tightening around his throat. " _You, Vox, are the jealous one._ You know no love, no care, no compassion. Used, and abused. You loved it when I humiliated you. You _love_ it when I leave you so broken you can't speak. And yet, you crave more. Something you have never known, that you know not where to find elsewhere." Lips. Lips on his neck. Teeth nibbling, and tongue grazing against the cables beneath his skin. _"All you had to do was ask._ "

He gasps at this, eyes closing and glitching as his face breaks. So brutal. Just managing to catch himself over his shock, he stares her down with surprised eyes, hands raising to her shoulders. "Ask you what, angel?"

The hand on his throat tightens. Not too much, not too little — just enough that he has to use his air wisely. Violet irises shimmering in the low light, she looks like a hunter. Some ancient, forgotten beast, thirsting for blood. "I think you know." Her other hand trails down his chest, thin lines of teal left on his skin in the wake of her touch. "But the question is, can you swallow that mighty pride of yours, and _beg for it?_ "

His eyes close to slits as he tries to gasp for more air, trying to play his own game rather than hers... it only becomes increasingly harder. However, he finds a way — rubbing his hips up against her, his cock already slightly stiff against her ass. His grin says it all. _'E_ _nough begging?'_

_Petty._ But then again, it is very much him. Her hips shift up, perched just out of reach from the ache of his arousal. He will suffer. Her hand grows tighter, fangs tearing into the fabric of his suit — piercing into his shoulder. Pricks of teal blood flow forth, sickeningly sweet on her tongue as she laps at the wound. _She went deep, on that one._ "Words are power, Voxxie. _Use them._ "

He obviously, foolishly, didn't expect her to go so hard on him — howling out in pain, his claws dug into her shoulders. "Fucking shit, knock it down, ya bitch."

"Yes, _just like that~_ " She purrs, her tongue soothing over the wound once again. The painkiller in it is a strong one. Potent, like opium, and damn near as addictive.

He relaxes almost immediately, sighing as his back he didn't even know was arches falls down to the floor again. "You know, one day I will tie you up and truly fuck your brains out, just to pay you back for all the beatings and bites you like to give out. Until then... well, your itsy bitsy spider cunt will have to stand up until then," he mumbles, teeth flashing dangerously despite the cracked screen, his tongue poking out.

"Did you want something gentler, Voxxie?" She teases, breath warm on his neck. Her teeth pierce once again, far deeper than before. She hits cable, mouth full of teal — staining the corners of her mouth, seeping out from her parted lips — his skin weeping at the assault. _Big talk._ She could place Florence under a protection hex. A little, protective shield that would _fry_ anyone she deemed unworthy of touching her. Or, she could just never let the spider out of her sight. "Do you want the gentle caress of my cunt on that aching cock of yours?"

His claws dug into her shoulders, so deep it drew blood from her as he cries out again — animated tears on his screen, tongue stretching, yowling in pain, trying to get her off of him — feeling as if he was close to fainting from that bite alone.

"Fuuuuuuck," he groans, pain almost unbearable. Combined with the lust her words rouse in him, it makes for a vicious cocktail — made even worse by the painkiller in her saliva, seeping directly into his veins. "You are a crazy whore, Scytra... fucking hell."

His hands slowly relaxed, letting go of her arms... subconsciously wandering down towards her hip. Even what must be miserable agony, he doesn't quite learn to shut up; voice broken into a two-toned echo. "Be a deary and turn around when you do, keep them chompers away."

A groan slips from her lips as his claws pierce her ebony flesh — lusty, and dark. Oh, she is a cruel thing, getting off on this pain in such a way. "Not my fault I like blood~" She purrs, violet irises aglow. Teal has stained her mouth, painted her lips in some macabre gloss made of Vox's life force. It will make for good lube, when the time is right. "I have been alive for _so long_ . Tell me, Voxxie, how else am I supposed to keep it interesting?"

Her fingertips ghost over his screen — over what would be his cheeks, his teeth, his tongue — luminous blue now held so _lovingly_ in her hand as she strokes it. "What, and miss these reactions of yours? _Never~_ "

He pushes his long, gleaming tongue out some more at the touch. A gesture bred into him from nights shared before, the only sign that he was learning. Learning what she liked, if only to be fickle about when he would follow or disobey. His hands in the meantime were desperately trying to push her in the direction of his aching cock, by now fully erect, still clinging to the promises she made earlier.

Unheard is the slither of the vines down the length of her arm — tendrils of verdant green weaved around his wrists, binding them down at his sides — his touch torn from her silken skin. Another one, bearing thorns larger than knives, tangles around his throat in place of her hand. Her halo is in full bloom, bearing flowers the same colour as his blood. She'd used him to feed her plants. "Something you'd like, Voxxie?" The pads of her fingers sooth up the length of his tongue, the tip pressed up against her knuckle. The full of her plush breasts pressed against his bare chest as she leans forward, velvet soft on his skin. Her tongue peeks out from the corner of her lips — dark as night, with a tinge of purple — teasing at his in small, practiced flicks.

The overlord whines at the feeling off the dangerously long thorns at his throat, arguably one of his weakest points. He wished that he could turn his own neediness down a dial, but both his - denied - nature and the alcohol he had had earlier were working against him. He carefully managed a somewhat pressed sounding, _'Get on with it,'_ past his outstretched tongue. Despite how transfixed he was on her, her chest, her clever tongue against his, basically everything about her. He loved it when she bound his hands. Then again, he also loved it when he was allowed to touch her luscious body, having it fit into his monstrous hands as if it was made for him. In short, he loved... he loved fucking her.

_Oh, what bottom._ For all the bravado the TV demon flaunts, he is no different than Alastor. In the face of a stronger foe, _a stronger lover_ , they can do little more than fold like wet cards. She chuckles, fingertips dragged down the length of his sides — more fluorescent blood pricking forth from his flesh. One final, long lick against the underside of his tongue, to the very tip, curling around and _sucking_. A soft, sharp snap of her fingers, and her clothes are gone. Well, for the most part.

The bra remains — crisscrossed straps laid taught against her ashen flesh in cobalt blue. Panties of the same colour clung to the high of her hips, linked to shimmering stockings. Her dangerously pointy heels, blacker than night. One would almost think her choice of lingering was _tailored to destroy him._ "Then beg for it, Voxxie," she purrs, the curve of her ass rubbing up against the tent in his pants. " _Tell your mistress what you want~_ "

She looks fantastic. Every whore and porn star in the studio would kill for a taste of what she can do with so little — armed with a nice set of lingerie, and a pair of literally killer stilettos. His cock twitched violently at the view, begging him to give in already, even more stimulated through new wounds. At this point, he fears he's so trained to the pain. The next battle he partakes in will have him jizzing in his pants. For once, he decided not to listen to his cock, even if it's driving him mad; pixelated eyes fluttering shut, breath hissing past his teeth. Then he slowly opened them, grinning up at her — weak, and vicious. "Oh, you know, I want to destroy your little redheaded bed-warmer once and for all. Hang his antlers over my bed. Break the little spider and rip out her other arms if she bores me. For now I will settle with wish number three: fucking your cute little ass until you can't sit on it anymore. Then maybe your mouth, just to get you to finally shut up."

Her violet eyes narrow, wisps of purple flowing from them — luminous in the shadow. "Oh?" A single brow arches, her plush lips pressed into a tight line. " _Is that so?_ " Her nails dig into his flesh this ease, teal squirting up from the force. She can feel more cables and wires against them — beneath his trembling body, pinned underneath her — how easy it would be to sever one, and watch him writhe in agony. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, pearlescent fangs bared. " _I think you need to learn some manners, Voxxie._ " His head is forced back against the floorboards — her knees pressed into the thin plastic frame — pinning him to the floor, with her velvet heat just above him. A good, clear shot of her cunt, before his eyes. To which he finds, an even greater surprise... 

_Her panties are crotchless._

His cry is sweetest music to her sadistic heart — plastic crunching beneath sheer force. But even more than his agony or his fragility, his next action makes her own insides churn.

Before she's in place, barely yet seated about his flat face, that weapon of a tongue presses up against her; flicking over her sex in shameless hunger.

Her hand clenches around the frame of his screen so tightly, it threatens to splinter. _Oh, what a little bastard._ Her hips shift up, just enough that her cunt is out of reach — hung in front of his face like the little treat it is. " _Voxxie~_ " She taunts, her other hand slithering up the side of her inner thigh. "What have I told you about disobeying me?"

His shaky breath as she pulls his treat away, one that is barely able to hide his disappointed groan. "What? You shouldn't put that in front of my face if you didn't want me to eat it up, sugar."

" _Resist-_ " Her hand continues upward, fingers dragging over her folds in a slow, teasing stroke, dipping in, at the slightest angle- " _Temptation._ " She's nowhere near wet enough. Even with Vox's brief teasing, the toxins she'd pushed into his body, the high of his submission. Her hand falls to his chest, digits coated in the teal flowing out from his wounds. _That will do nicely._

One finger, coated teal, slides into her sex — her thighs clenching up around it as she keens softly. " _There we go~_ "

It's enough to make him wild. Thrashing against the bindings around his wrists, vainly trying to free himself. To touch himself. To touch Her. He even tries to lift his head, though it proves just as hopeless. Too much weight holding him down. His breathing was already heavy from just watching her, hissing like a snake, "perverted... _whore.”_

" _Manners, Vox,_ " she smirks, though it falters as she eases a second finger into herself. Teeth to her lip, suppressing a moan as her digits curl and rub against her silken walls. This is his punishment. He has to watch her get off. Watch her squirt all over his stupid face. And then, maybe then, once he's a lusty, wanton mess; he may feel her. _But only if he behaves._ "Try not jizz yourself."

The growl she get as an answer is barley human. Then again, neither is he. Vox stretches his tongue towards her in an attempt to sate himself. So hopeful with those furrowed brows, trying and falling to earn another taste. The frustration gets him bad — even worse than the pain or the straining tent in his slacks, stealing more blood than his wounds. He still tasted her on his tongue from the second of bliss he had gotten. Maybe, he can run her patience thin. "Didn't try to get a taste of your little darling. Then again, she'd probably tasted like a slut. Can't have everyone be as nice as you, can we?"

A third finger, painted teal, slips inside of her — the noise that slips from her lips, positively sinful. "Really? You missed out- _Ah-!_ " Her back arches, head tossed to the heavens. " _Haaa- ahh~_ " She hit a good spot. _Ooooh, she hit a good spot_ . Especially so, judging from how wet she'd become — droplets running down the sides of her thighs, pittering off Vox's screen. The noise of her fingers slipping out of her is.. _obscene_. He must be dying on the inside.

He is. On the outside too, but that part interested him less. _"For fuck's sake woman, I get it!_ Now come and have a seat already!"

"Then- _unnf-_ then _beg._ "

Another growl. "Fuck you.” His tongue glides over his own screen as much as he can, taking the drops she gifts him.

_"Oh, you'd like that far too much~"_ She must look something divine, from his angle. A clear, blue-lit upshot of her cunt, up the flat of her stomach, the full curve of her breasts. Valentino would make a poster out of her, if he could. The knuckle of her thumb grinds up against her clit, adding that pressure she cannot find elsewhere — her thrusts, slightly more erratic. Deeper. _Much deeper._ "Oh, _fuck. Alastor~_ "

She could feel him freeze. Hear him. Heard his breathing stop. Then, with a voice almost as cold as hers could get at points, _"stop that bullshit."_

Her smirk, lip drawn between her pointed teeth. She will break him. _"Alastor~ Alastor, yes~!"_

_She will absolutely destroy him._

_Fucking_. It was infuriating. He hated how _his_ name sounded coming from her, especially like this, especially when he was so close. Of course he knew she did it on purpose, even his drugged and drunk brain knew that. Didn't make him any less mad. Didn't make him any less horny either. Head full of fantasies of truly fucking her, maybe with the Radio demons blood as lube, instead of his. Now that is a thought he could get used to... his dick twitched at the idea, reminding him painfully of the real situation, a voice in his brain whispering that he would never truly fuck you. No... it was her game after all. It won't stop him from cheating. "Come on, we both know you're pretending. Telling yourself lies about how you prefer his tiny ass dick."

Now _there's_ a thought. Alastor's thick, grey cock. With all its delicious little bumps and ridges, and that _gloriously_ broad head. So much better than her hands could ever be. To think she went so long without it...

" _Ah! Alastor! Ala- unf- stor, please~_ " She's close. Perched on the very edge of her release, dripping wet over Vox's screen — watching him lap up anything he can with feral desperation. What a filthy little whore the overlord is.

His mind was racing, overwhelmed by the situation, overwhelmed by the view and the toxins in his circuits. He would definitely blame it on all this later on. Everything not to admit to that tiny, voiceless whisper that escaped him, "fuck... _please._ "

Despite his lack of voice, despite how loud the squelch of her soaked cunt is, despite everything; she hears him. Loud and clear. A giggle bubbles up from her teal-painted lips — sadistic, finer than velvet, and red wine. The knot in her stomach binds tight, one hard pulse of her fingers against her g-spot, and then- " _Auuhh!_ **_Fuck~!_ ** _Alastor~!_ " 

There it is. Just as violent, and volatile as she predicted. Her grip on his screen tightens, palm busting into the glass — a crack spidering out towards the corner in seventeen different branches — pearlescent white coating his face like the whore he is.

Vox cries out for multiple reasons — pain, frustration, thirst, hurt pride — as he gets covered in your cum, the first thing she truly gave him today... given in the name of another. He despises it. He wants to exchange the name on her lips for his own so badly. The fact that he had begged earlier shocked him. Now he was considering doing it again. "Better?" He mumbled, pouting a bit.

The demon looks almost... defeated, beneath her parted thighs — slicked down with her fluids, in every sense of the word. He could almost drown in it, if he was determined. _"Oh, like no other~"_ Her fingers slip from her cunt, dripping with even more of her fine essence. His blood had practically gotten wicked away. _'What to do with him now?'_ She wonders, lapping up her own juices.

He licks everything he can from his face, the blue light shining through her cum, glistening from it. He looks a bit calmer now, obviously enjoying her taste — though grumpy as usual, tongue flicked back into his mouth, light fading. "Well, it was a pleasure, wasn't it, sugartits?"

There's a laugh — far less sadistic than the previous — her cunt brought to the flush of his screen. "What makes you think we're done, Vox?"

Once more he tensed under her, obviously thinking that her torture would be only this. But _oh,_ how glad he was to hear that there was more to come.

"Tell me-" she purrs, a hand resting atop his own — fingers managing to intertwine with his, with little to no effort. Her clit drags across the cool front of the screen, eliciting a small whine from deep within- " _Vox._ Are you willing to behave?"

The tip of his tongue darted out, just so catching her clit against it, "whatever you need to continue."

His claws are practically clinging to her.

"What- _Ha-_ ever I need?" She breathes, clenching at his hand. It would seem he's willing to behave... _for now._ "Be a dear, and clean me up."

Vox nods ever so lightly. Tongue pushed to it's full beauty, starting to lick slow, curvy lines all over her sex. His eyes close as he does so, relishing the taste with a moan. A clear answer if there ever was one.

It's a wonderful feeling, the tongue of another against her slicked sex — be it Alastor, Florence, even Florence — it never fails to make her tremble. The demon below her is not one of her mates. He never will be. Yet, he laps up against her spent pussy with all the determination he can muster. "Oh, _poor, little, you. Wouldn't you say, Voxxie?_ " Her voice is smooth, the hand that had grasped his screen, ghosting over the edges of his face. " _You must be starving~_ "

His digital eyes opened, if only for a few seconds to hold her gaze sternly, despite looking absolutely wrecked — deliciously close to the border of breaking, the border of submitting, filling her with glee. The rest of him was still a little shit, making him push his tongue deeply into her core, making sure to wiggle it around a lot.

She bites her lip to keep herself from giving him what he really wants. A course of moans and whines, with his name on her lips. _He'll have to work much harder than that. "_ Is that all, Vox?" She sighs, grinding down against his tongue. Deeper. She wants it _deeper._ Right up to the entrance of her womb, if he's worth his salt. She can feel him writhing beneath her, despite all his effort — so desperate for more of her — willing the vines to return to their owner. They will do no such thing.

He pulls his tongue back in before pushing into her as far as he can. Not womb level - inadequate - but into her g-spot, finding that one with the ease of someone who has done this many times before, grinding his tip into it. The rest of his body was twitching and shaking alike, needy for more.

He's practiced. Given his choice of friends, and place of residence, _he'd better be._ Still, he lacks. Even Pentious had managed to hit her womb, and he isn't even an overlord. Her hips shift, thighs pressed flat to his screen — perfectly spread for him. "Something the matter?" She gasps, squeezing his hand. "You're trembling like a leaf."

His answer is a muffled moan as he presses past her sweet spot, fucking into her in a slow, placid rhythm. Movement behinds her indicates that he is moving his own hips at the same speed, pretending for either her or himself how it would be if he was fucking her in true. Claws press into her hands for a second, easing their grip. The demon, in the meantime, was quietly losing it. The taste of his own blood mixed with her fluids is doing him in him — making him wish he could fill her with more, more of him, just more... he's leaking precum into his pants.

The demon's tongue is not a sizely thing, but it certainly is skilled. She can already feel the edge of another orgasm building, tight and hot in spent cunt. And for as much as she'd like to cum all over his screen a second time, she has... _a better idea._

Her hand slips from his grasp, tongue left lolling out the side of his mouth with the loss of her cunt. He's infuriated by it, but she's certain he'll enjoy what's to come, _far more._ cunt grinds up against the bulge in his pants. Slow, teasing twists, meant to further soak the pinstripe fabric. She broke him, and now, _she's going to make a fool out of him._ "Vox. _Vox._ Tell me, sinner man, what you want."

His annoyed noise at her moving away yet again quickly changes into a hungry groan. The taste of her still clinging to his tongue sent him spinning, the feeling of her heat _finally_ where it was supposed to be made it so much worse. He lifts his screen, whining at the new cracks — choosing to ignore them in favour of her — eyes somehow dark despite them still digitally glowing. "I want for you to finally behave like a good girl and fuck me."

_He really doesn't learn, does he?_

The vines around his hands rescinds, allowing him the briefest moment of freedom. But that is all it is. Less than a second, before he's tugged up onto his knees by the collar of his jacket — teal blood darkening the fabric ever more, beneath her nails. _"_

 _Manners, Voxxie,"_ she purrs, licking the blood from her fingertips. Violet eyes blazing, as he goes to reach for her with shaking claws — only to have them bound once again. Thorny vines — to match the thick plant around his neck — twist and weave around him into a macabre sort of shibari, thorns pushed into his skin. He will sustain her babies while she has her way with him. The tip of her heel brushes up against the tent in his pants, slicked cloth leaving a sheen of teal against latex. _"You have so much to learn~"_

The pain filled whine as thorns dug into his skin, shredding his expensive suit and pulling blood from him was chilling and beautiful. Alastor would have enjoyed that noise, though probably not the ones that were to come.

But the real joy emerged as he felt the pressure on his cock, pressing up against the pants in it's full, noticeably huge, length. He froze as he finally realized what was happening — wanting to bite down on his lips to keep the moan from spilling, except he didn't have any, so his voice was all hers. "Fuuuck~"

"Mm, later~" The demoness purrs, a salacious wink added for emphasis. "If you behave, that is." Her foot glides up, his cock pressed to the flat of the latex. Maybe he will earn the bliss of his cock inside her, but he's going to have to work for it.

The overlords instincts screamed to thrust up against the pressure, the illusion of pleasure so used to cheat over pain. The little rational part that still had a voice over the drugs, the alc and the need was enough to keep his hips grounded. His head tips back, tongue coming out just to lay on the screen — silent eyes begging for more as he gave into the madness of blood loss, piercing, and what would probably soon be an abused dick. Maybe he'd be lucky enough to cum first, considering how very close he already was.

Oh, she broke him. Well and good, by the looks of it. He can't even put up a fight to her actions, chest heaving and drool pooling on the edge of his screen. "Don't you look good~" She purrs, watching his dick strain and bob against his pants when she pulls her foot away. It almost seems to twitch, in the low light.

He wants to stop himself, but fails to. Thrusting up after her foot as it leaves him, moaning a quiet, _"no."_ Eyes fluttering shut in both frustration, and how hard his head is spinning. He was probably slowly dying. He didn't care half as much for that as for the fact that he still didn't cum.

"'No' what, Vox?" There's a ghost of something against his cock — deathly sharp, like a knife or needle — some of her weight pushed down against his lower stomach. If he were to look, he would find the heel of her shoe dangerously close to his balls. To piercing them, tearing them from his synthetic body. Perhaps she could almost be confused for innocent, if it wasn't for the salacious glow in her dark eyes. _"Be specific."_

The overlord gasps softly, fighting the urge to pull his lower region away from the tip of her heel, knowing that would be the end of his manhood. While he went through a ridiculous amount of repairs, he somehow doubted that that one would work too. Not that he could think through all of that. He just knew better out of habit. He knows when it's time to give her what she wanted. "Urgh... make me cum... I... _please_ , fuck, so close. Shoe... shoe works fine."

The noise that leaves her mouth is obscene. The perfect blend of a moan and a whine that makes his cock twitch violently against its constraints. _"Look at you~"_ The tip of her heel drags down the length of his shaft, scraping against his ebony skin — from his crotch, to the head of his cock. Now if she- 

It's not even needed. Vox's cock finally bursts forth from the confines of his slacks — cut apart by her heel. He should be glad he didn't move. Latex is cool on his overheated skin, teal precum dribbling from the tip of his cock, to her foot. _"What a good overlord~"_ The toe of her shoe presses into him, the head of his cock pinned beneath her heel. _"Cum for me, Vox."_

It wouldn't even have needed this last stimulation. He came almost the second his cock was freed, from the sheer release of pressure. But her sweet words and praise and the pain the heel provided sent him spiraling, the orgasm hitting him stronger than anything he could remember as he roared, wordlessly succumbing to the wave of nausea and pleasure. He tensed in his restraint, bucked and the thorns slid even deeper into him — more of his blood coming out, the same colour as the tip of his dick or the semen squirting out in wave after wave after wave — mixing with his other fluids, only different in the texture. He's made such a mess of himself.

It was worth it. All the teasing, and denial was worth it, even if Vox would disagree. What a sight he is — broken and bloodied — chest heaving as string after string of fluorescent teal cum shoots out from his cock. Valentino would pay good money for this.

He is still shaking violently after some time has passed. Maybe he was actually dying at this point. His eyes had been pressed tightly shut since his orgasm, but now they slowly opened, looking up at her with a sort of hollow pleasure — sated and broken, ready to take whatever else she'd give. He made sure to keep his unsteady voice as low as possible, as if hoping she wouldn't hear him. _"Thanks._ " His cock had fallen down on his belly, beginning to soften, though not as quickly as it should thanks to the aphrodisiacs.

Perhaps he can't really see her, from beneath his lidded eyes, but she hears him. Her senses were designed for these things, after all. A chuckle slips from her lips, the sound of her heeled footsteps unnaturally quiet against the floorboards. "Thank yourself, Voxxie." There's a rustle of fabric, a shift, and then his screen is in her lap — the demoness tracing the cracks in the glass with sharp nails.

He has barely any power left, and even if he had more — or if he wasn't still wrapped in vines — he wouldn't even think about moving right now. Not when her claws were driving over his cracks, so easy to push in and make the damage worse. Not when a quick movement of hers could rip his throat out. Not when his plastic pressed into your thighs, soft and warm — her scent of roses and more filling his void. He peered up at her, quietly studying her face through slits, pretending to sleep.

The vines rescind, curling back unto their owner with thorns stained blue. The TV demon almost looks... peaceful. "If you die here, I will eat your corpse."

This draws a weakened, yet heartfelt chuckle out of him. "You wished that would be enough to make me die," he mumbles as he slowly stretches and bend his arms. They've gone stiff, flinching at what that movement did to the many wounds. "Wouldn't be where I am if I couldn't deal with some drugs and being stabbed, dollface."

It's a wonder he hasn't passed out. Her time with Alastor is plenty proof that overlords can handle a fair bit of punishment, but even this is... _much,_ for one. "Tell me, Vox," she sighs, soothing her thumb against the deep wound on his shoulder. "What draw do I have over you?"

He flinched. At her words or the touch to his arguably worst wound, it wasn't sure. However, it was obvious that he tried to sound casual, so she had suspicion. "What, didn't I tell you often enough?

"You say you hate me." Her thumb presses deep, teal blood seeping over her ebony skin. "That you want to destroy everything I love. But-" She lifts it to her lips, staining them teal as she laps at his sweet life force- " _You always come back to me._ "

The digital mouth twists in a way that simulates teeth grinding against each other in pain, but he manages to stay quiet this time. As such, it takes him a while to answer. "Makes it easier to destroy your loved ones when I am close, no?" He laughs again, quieter, more tired. "Nah girl, I don't give a fuck about you in the long run. But I am the best you can get, and I hate to see a prized piece like you waste her time with a loser like Alastor or minor demons. I want you to realize how much better I will be for you."

His eyes close as he sighed quietly, and for a second, it looks like he is so calm that he could drift away. But when he opens them, there is something in his look that she believes no one has ever seen. She surely hadn't, not even when he was completely lost to her; a raw honesty. It made clear that the emphasis with which he said his next sentence — low, begging, somehow ridden of any hope and yet not quite — was more important than the phrasing, words shadowed by pride, "I want you to be mine.”

Her nightshade lips press into a thin line, violet eyes sharper than a knife. Cold. They are cold. _Cruel_. "Oh, Vox... you foolish little boy." There's a bloom of pain in his chest — a stark, vicious burn that spiders out like fire. _Her finest poison._ _"To think you could court a god~"_

It feels like being dropped into cold water while the kindling still flames up. He jerks up, wincing in pain, still pressing up onto his elbows. The peaceful moments draped on her lap already feeling like they were centuries ago. His body shakes from the movement and his head hurts beyond belief, the Molotov cocktail inside him is starting to conjure up an ugly migraine. Yet being close to her, listening, was worse. "Oh shut up, slut!"

"The saying," she purrs, nails piercing his skin once again. "Is _'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'_ " What a fool. Every demon in hell is headstrong, so ready and willing to use actions over words. Perhaps, if he'd _told her_ , things would've turned out slightly differently. It's not his place to know who her chosen mates are. "You are _so_ young, Vox. _I pray you learn."_

Perhaps she was ready for him to try and talk his way out of this. To snap and foolishly attack you, to shatter and break down, crying, begging. She'd never know, for even before the emotions were sorted on his face, the door closed with a quiet _snap._

"Well oh well oh well, it seems I missed out on quite some fun, didn't I? Scytra, a surprising pleasure to see you here! Though, I do have to ask, darling, what exactly you are doing to _my_ _ex boyfriend?"_

Oh, _how lovely._ "Valentino," she mutters, rising to her feet — the back of Vox's screen smacking against the floorboards. "I go where I please, optimæ. As for what I _was_ doing-" Violet eyes flick back over her shoulder, regarding Vox's broken form with amusement. _"Settling a score."_

The tall, slender figure comes to a halt beside her, grinning viciously down at his companion on the floor. Vox's eyes hushed to and fro between them, though always clinging to her for just a beat longer. He starts to force himself up slowly, with a great amount of effort. He was still full of teal and pearly white fluids — cock still peaking out, on half-mast. The pimp sighs. "I can see that. You should have told me, I would have given you a nicer room. One with a cozy bed and cameras, you see?"

"Really?" Clawed nails graze the cheek of the pimp, coated with Vox's blood. "Would you happen to have your phone on you?"

Before she even fully managed to finish the sentence, one of his lower hands had already pulled out the mobile device. The overlord leaned against the touch of her claw with a toothy grin, enjoying the feeling of his friend's blood on him. "Always ready, darling."

Vox, in the meantime, was on his knees and hands, breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut — feeling as if he was gonna throw up, knowing full well he couldn't. He gathered all his strength and started to push himself up to his feet.

Her grin, though smaller than that of Alastor, is somehow more vicious — a dark chuckle bubbling up from her throat. "Valentino~" A kiss is pressed to his slender cheek, a perfect mark of teal left upon grayish skin. _"A demon after my own heart."_

In a surge of white runes, Vox's back is forced into the small bed in the room — the demoness perched just above his hips. The head of his cock brushes against her cunt, insult to injury in his over stimulation. The poison is his body has seeped into every last wire and cable — inky tendrils of neon purple spread throughout like a viral infection. "Vox. _Vox._ _Voxxie._ Can you still hear me?"

If she'd turned back, she'd see Valentino fiddling with a static — if he had it with him under his coat or tucked away in the couch cushions, she doesn't know. She doesn't care.

Vox wasn't as smooth anymore, or as mean-spirited. He only shook his head slow, which was hard considering the size and shape he had, as if he was attempting to clear his mind. As his eyes opened for her, very thin purple lines had joined the turquoise ones making them up. "Please..."

A laugh. Dark, sadistic, _radiating danger._ "Voxxie~" She purrs, the full of his softening cock swallowed up by her tight cunt. _"You should've thought about that before you touched my mates."_ Teal bursts up from his chest, coating her chest and his in fluorescent blood — the tips of her nails grazing over what would be considered his heart.

He screams, ear piercing, deliciously as his hands come up in a search if adrenaline, trying to rip her hands away — to get her off of him, as even for him, this amount of pain was too much. His impressive length buried inside of her — at least one thing he was useful for, reaching deep without much effort - twitched heavily against her slick, hot walls. He roared, cried out, begging her to stop as his claws drilled into her wrists — desperate to pull her hands away, barely managing against her strength, especially not after everything he went through before.

The vines return, but they are not the dark green ones he's seen before. These ones are black, viscous, with thorns the size of a sword — smelling of something so sickeningly sweet it makes his head spin. His wrists bound above his head, thorns piercing flesh, jutting out at violent angles. She can almost hear Val's purr of intrigue.

"Tough one, aren't you." Her silken tongue laps the blood from her hands — skin unharmed by his previous assault. Yes. She has flesh tougher than most.

Vox collapsed. Completely. Voice broken as he sobbed. There were no tears as he was unable to cry, but his eyes are hollow. _It's too much._ His servers are frying, blissful unconsciousness coming upon him. She noticed too. The way his body relaxed under her as he slowly lost control, his breathing slowing down so much she could hear the quiet noise of Val's hand working himself up.

The spidery veins flare, cold fire wrenching him back from the arms of darkness. _He's not allowed to die yet._ "What lust had wrought, Voxxie," she hisses, feeling the blood rush to his spent cock. _"Do you even know who I am?"_

She's almost tempted to give Val something for his troubles. A vine, a flower, or something of that caliber — a bit of favor for his willingness to cooperate with her. Though to be fair, he seemed to get quite a bit out of this for himself. The moth isn't a problem, for once.

No, it was the gasping mess under her, trying to push the pain out with oxygen. The purple of her venom clashes so nicely with his turquoise, teal and black. Indeed, Vox was a beautiful sight for people who didn't mind a bit of gore. The cables that were visible through his wounds, especially through the new one in his chest, were surprisingly colourful. A wild, yet strategically organised mess. Pentious would probably love to look through it, his interests as an engineer flaring up, if the end product wasn't so humanoid. Humanoid with a metal box for a heart. Maybe that was why he was so fucked up... then again he had more emotions than another demon in this room. Nearly rock hard over such a gruesome display, adding even more to his spinning head. Yet he tried to stutter out another sentence, "Scytra... stop... please."

Her teeth bury into his shoulder, deeper than the last time. Through the pain, he can hear her giggle — lips so disarmingly soft against his wrecked body. _"Because you listened when Florence cried?"_ Another giggle, tongue dragged up the length of his throat. And then-

 _More teal._ Droplets hanging in the air for but a moment, before they paint the walls of the squalid room. Vines have pierced through his chest — woven around his heart, squeezing it in a deathly sharp grasp as the viscous black of the brambles melts the casing — the tips of them caressing the demoness's ashen skin. The mattress is soaked through, little more than trash, like the demon below her. Stab to her pride as it is that this husk is touching her majesty, it will be worth every moment.

He didn't have the energy to shout at any of this. The bite, deep enough to cut halfway through cables, only pulled a broken cry from him. Her final strike made him go quiet, go tense.... before going completely limp; crumpling in on himself. His screen flickers. Once. Twice, flickering to black as his systems shut down. All this suffering, all this pain, finally over... though the cocky demon of course couldn't just go like that. Proof for that was the cock inside of her, slowly filling her up with another load as the vine pierced his chest.

She can feel his essence inside her. Teal painted upon her sangria walls. _Disgusting._ He wouldn't just go quietly. "Stubborn motherfucker, aren't you?"

With a shift of her hips, his spent cock slips from her — covered in a sort of sky blue. She reeks of him. Covered from head to toe in his cum, blood, and saliva. Alastor will fix that — rather quickly, knowing his possessive nature. There's a small desire to tear out more. To rend more cables up from his sundered chest cavity. To snap his limbs, and leave him spread wide like some parted out tech. _She has done enough._ From this day forward, the TV demon will tremble in her presence. 

Val's little camera caught quite the show indeed. A final, dramatic shot of Vox's desiccated body pierced through with vines, left as the closing shot. With a snap of her fingers, she's in her normal attire, sheer skirt flitting about her ankles as she saunters toward the pimp. _Who has his cock in hand._ Big surprise. _"Charming.”_

The tall overlord gets up with a sigh, long limbs stretching as he paused the video, but the grin on his face never breaks. "Am I one to talk after what you just did, sweetheart?" His head tilts to the side, even though it wouldn't have been necessary to look past her to the bed given his height.

"Is he dead?" He asks cheerfully, his long fur coat falling open around his cock.

"Very, _very_ close," she smirks. Hate him as she may for what the pimp does to Angel, he has his... _benefits_. She'll get him one day. "He's in stasis. One foot in limbo, and one here." From her cleavage, she pulls a small vile full of white, shimmering liquid — tossed towards the overlord with little care. "Kill him, take his power, raise your standing. Or, cure him, once you're done — send him out for repairs."

He easily catches it with one hand, the rest of his body unmoving as he still stares at the TV demon. His dick - rather thin, but incredibly long, just like the moths body — twitches at the ideas she is offering. "We'll see what mood I'm in. I wont miss him too much if I go for that first idea, darling."

Suddenly his hands are on her, one carefully rubbing it's thumb against her lower lip, collecting some of the blood there. The other one is way less subtle, pushing up her skirts, between her legs — gathering some of the mixed cum that was dripping down her thigh. At that he looked at her again, grinning as he quickly pulled his hands back before she would snap, pulling both up to his own lips, licking off the teal in a slow, almost pornographic movement, all while keeping watch on her. For a second, the pimp radiated danger.

She grimaces, slapping his chest with the back of her hand. What more could she expect from a pimp. "I'm far too old to care, Optimæ." There's a thought. A quick, fluttering one — like a butterfly on the wind. She could very easily do the same to him, here and now... _however-_ "Do you want something?"

His grin even sharpened as he leaned down even more, voice turned down to a seductive whisper. "Sorry, darling. _You aren't my type._ "

A laugh. Dry. Humourless. _Good lie_. She'd almost believe him. "Vanidicus. _You fear me._ "

Val straightened to his full, towering height, shoulders pulled up in a shrug. "Maybe." He brushes past her, interest lost. He has more urgent matters at hand. "But that's why I won't fuck you, sweetheart. You see, I recognize a demon of power when I see one, and so should you."

He made his way over to the mess of a bed, to the mess of a demon, his voice almost chirping. "I prefer obedient partners, myself. The type who knows how to beg. How to submit.” Everything she knows about this demon — the way he held himself, the way he articulated himself, the way he drew his sharp claws over exposed cable — made it obvious what he meant. ' _Begging for his mercy, for their lives'_ or plainly, ' _too drugged up or broken to put up any more fight'_. Valentino liked to take advantage of those who couldn't resist him. Riight now, even if he was awake, Vox couldn't do shit. He pulled the unconscious demon's legs open with his lower hand as he knelt down on the bed.

The demoness can almost appreciate his cruelty. She's no better. Even if she wants to believe she is, she could never be. Her rage prevents ascension. "I have a habit of attracting bottoms." He's not wrong, but then, everyone submits to her eventually. It is written in her blood. The heraldry of her angelic nature. _A curse._ "And, Val?"

The demon, who had obviously already finished with the conversation, only answering her words with a laugh as he rubbed the tip of his cock against the other overlord, seemingly not intending to use lube, snapped his head up, slightly annoyed. "What is it darling?"

Her lips crack, pearlescent fangs bared. She's finished here. _"Tunc te."_


End file.
